


Malagueña Salerosa: Stanley's Tall Tale

by XIntensity_FallsX



Series: Reincarnated Falls Side Readings [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Mentioned Billford, Modern AU, One Sided Relationships, Purposefully out of character as Stanley is telling a story about him and Bill, Reincarnated!Bill Cipher, Rico's a jerk, Stanley's take on Bill's crush on him, Young Stan Twins, a story is just one big con anyway, he does some embellishing, slight body shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13280274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XIntensity_FallsX/pseuds/XIntensity_FallsX
Summary: Stanford Pines is off in the forest, and will miss his usual story telling session over skype with Shermie. Like the good brother that he is, Stanley takes over and tells Shermie a story of sorts about how he met Bill, only with fairy tale elements.This story takes place in my regular universe of fics, where Stanley and Bill get to Gravity Falls first. In particular, this story takes place during Men in Trunks. In particular, it's before the gravity goes haywire. It will help to have read Men in Trunks first, so you know the actual story Stanley changes around into a fairy/tall tale for his brother.





	Malagueña Salerosa: Stanley's Tall Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Sorry for the delay on the next story. I'm not dead, but I barely made it out of peak season! @_@ BARELY. I'm starting to settle back into a normal life style, which means I can start work on that soon after I do some consulting to make sure I can pull it off. Until then, have this fluff side piece :)
> 
> Some other notes:
> 
> -Reading Men in Trunks will make this story a bit better, as you will have the actual story of how they met to compare it to  
> -Stanley takes liberties with Bill's relationship with Rico. He barely understands it at all, and only recently learned the truth about Bill's role in the cartel  
> -Stanley takes a lot of liberties, actually. That being said, a lot of the characters in the story are from Stanley's point of view.  
> -This story was also inspired by the song, Malagueña Salerosa! Avenge Sevenfold has an excellent cover of it.  
> -This was a neat experiment, and I hope you enjoy it!

I'm stuck in the woods. I am fine, but it's going to be awhile before I get back. Can you take my place for Shermy's skype session? He'll want you to tell him a story. 

Stanley stared at the text message for a good long while. The words tell him a story seared into his retinas, and they did not want to go away. "Like I know stories that won't get me money in the end!" He threw his hands up into the air and groaned. There was always a good story or two in his magazines, but those were decidedly not for children. Bill had a bunch of weird, old books in his shop. Dusty, half wrecked books written in funny languages Bill seemed to know without even trying. 

Those weren't going to do either. What good was a book he could not read, anyway? 

With a grunt, he texted Stanford an okay fine and turned on his tablet. Soon enough, Sherman Pines and his eager face flooded the screen. "Hey kiddo. How's it going?" 

"Stanley!" Sherman's face lit up. "I didn’t know you were going to be in on our skype session! What happened to Ford?" 

"Uh, he's busy in the woods with stuff. You know, nerdy science stuff." Stanley scratched at the back of his head. 

"Why does he have to do nerd science stuff all the time! He's not even in school anymore and he acts just like he is!" Sherman stuck out his tongue, pulling on his cheeks and groaning for effect. 

"Eh, it ain't bad." He supposed it was his duty to tell him it isn't. No need for another Pines to drop out of high school. "It works for him, but I guess it's all a matter of taste though. Stanford's doing his nerd thing, it makes him happy." It wasn't treasure hunting, but it did not matter anymore. Stanford was at least warming back up to him. Maybe one day they could revisit it. For now, things were starting to become better, and he was more than willing to accept the slow pace back to being brothers. He cleared his throat. "So. Ford said he tells you stories over skype?" 

"Yeah! He tells the best stories! He was going to tell me about he and Bill met!" Sherman frowned, and pursed his lips as he looked at Stanley. "Will you tell me about how Ford and Bill met?" 

"Uh, well. Yeah, I could. I was there. Alright, we'll do that. It'll be a fast story. Five minutes and it's over. Completely painless." 

Sherman blinked, and immediately pouted. "H-Huh? No. Ford's stories are long epics, like Tolkien! Your stories gotta be long, just like his! I look forward to this every week, and then I draw pictures of them until it's time for the next story! Please make it a long story? Pleeeease?" 

Stanley's thick fingers dug into his temples. "Kid, you are killing me. Can't I just give you a tour of the Mystery Shack, tell you those stories, and then we can pretend you paid me money?" 

"No, come on! I want a story just for me!" 

He let out a long, winding sigh from his nose. He watched Sherman's lip tremble until he threw his hands up again. "Fine, fine. I'll tell you a story. A long story. One about uh, one about how me and Bill met! Yeah." He was going to have to clean it up a bit, polish up some loose ends, and completely fabricate nearly half of it if it was going to be as good as one of Stanford's stories. Especially if Stanford told long stories. Sherman was not going to know a fibbed part from the actual story, so what was the harm in embellishment? Who wanted to hear 'I meet your brother's boyfriend in the trunk of a murder car I was stuffed in after failing at paying back loans too many times' when he could tell a cobbled together story of half-truths and bad gangster movies? Bill was not here to correct him, after all. He went home to work at his shop. "And it’s going to be much better than anything Stanford told you." 

"Oh! Is it going to be like a fairy tale?" 

Stanley's eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin. "Yeah... yeah, why not? I can work with that. Fairy tales, with princesses and all of that crap. Alright. So. Once upon a time- that's how they start, right?" 

Sherman nodded, gesturing for Stanley to continue. 

"Right, okay. Once upon a time, there was a huge, white mansion-" 

\- 

The soaring white building with its arched, rustic metal doorways and terra cotta tiles sat neatly among the endless green foliage. It nearly glittered, like a giant, untouchable diamond. He passed dozens of black cars, baking in the hot sun. He thought he may have heard an uncomfortable bang coming from one of the trunks, but he was not given long to dwell on it. The two large men who brought him there moved him a long across the decorative walkways quickly before he could hear the sound again. 

Stanley looked up at it, the sweat trickling down the back of his neck. He wiped at it with a towel he was told to bring, only to have the perspiration back after a moment or so. Every mouth of air he took in was as if he had swallowed nothing but heat. He pinched the front of his old tee shirt, pulling it from his body to let some air in down the front. "Who willingly lives here?" He muttered under his breath. The men behind him nudged him none too gently forward until they were past the metal doors and into a large, square courtyard, decorated with archways and sandstone tiles. Every person he had seen so far had on an expensive suit. Well-tailored, black in color. The kind of suit that makes a man, or so his father would have said. 

"Stanley Pinington?" 

A tall, thin man in an ice-cream white suit stood in the middle of the courtyard. Stanley nearly missed him, due to looking wildly at his surroundings. He stopped when spoken to, eyeing him carefully. His skin was brown, his black hair straightened and pressed into effortless waves. He wore a smile that split his face, and the one almond eye not covered by a patch had an eerie slit like look to it. His suit was tailored to his body, the material looked creamy to the touch. Whomever he was, he had an other-worldly presence which made Stanley stand up straighter. He may have stared too long, he couldn't tell. Time seemed to slow down to a near stop the longer he looked at him. He swallowed thickly. This had to be him, the man who was going to make him wealthy enough to return home. "Uh, hi. Yeah. That's me. You're Rico, right? The guy in charge?" 

"Hah!" His laughter was sharp, grating and cut the air. "No, sorry pal!" His voice went straight through Stanley, and it made him shudder. No one was perfect. "I'm Bill, his bodyguard." 

"No offense buddy, but what kind of a body guard wears a white suit?" 

Bill examined his perfectly manicured nails. He flashed Stanley another wide smile. "One who is damn good at his job." He took a few steps forward, and Stanley took one back, compelled to by a growing unease in his gut. It churned unyieldingly at the thought of being touched by someone like Bill, and it did not stop the closer he got to Stanley. He wound up colliding with the two men behind him. "Hey." Bill frowned. "Look, I'm not going to do anything to you. I just have to check you for weapons before you go in to see Rico. Relax, pal! Here, I'll let you check me first." Bill spread his long arms to his sides. "Go ahead, frisk me. I'm waiting." 

Stanley's eyes widened. "A-are you serious? Wh-what kind of a bodyguard-" 

"One who is the best at his job." His smirk never faded. 

"...Alright." Stanley slowly approached Bill, his fingers grazing the white material of his suit. He froze. It was thick and beautiful, impossibly soft to the touch. This suit was clearly worth more than anything Stanley had ever owned, or would ever own at this point. He was suddenly aware of the threadbare jeans, and sweaty, stained white tee shirt. He clenched the towel in his other hand and shook his head. His hands seemed nowhere near clean enough to touch the brilliant material. "I... I'll get your suit dirty." He spread his arms reluctantly out to his sides. "Just do it." 

As soon as Bill's hands were on him, a rushing wave of heat scorched Stanley to his core. If he did not know any better, he would have thought his hands were on fire. Bill's touch was barely there and quick, but the unchecked power flowing behind them made him shiver. 

\- 

"Wait!" Sherman said with a frown. "Is Bill a princess in this story, or a wizard?" 

Stanley blinked. "Uh-" 

"Because you're the poor guy who becomes the hero just like in Ford's story, so Bill must be Princess Unobtainabelle. But in Ford's story, Princess Unobtainabelle doesn't normally have powers." 

Stanley ran a hand down his face and sighed. Apparently, Stanford was telling Sherman about his nerd game stories. That's why they were so damn long. "Well. This is a Stanley story, not a Ford story. If Bill's going to be a princess wizard, he's going to be a princess wizard." 

"Wow! A princess wizard! I'm going to draw that!" 

A sense of pride fluttered through Stanley. He sat up straighter. "Can I get back to the story? I don't have all day and neither do you. I know it's late in New Jersey." 

Sherman nodded quickly. "Sorry! I won't interupt again." 

"Great, great. I'll hold you to that, you know. Anyway, Bill the Princess Wizard was in the middle of checking me out for weapons when-" 

\- 

His long finger caught on one of the weaker parts of Stanley's jeans. It went right through and it made Stanley jump. His face flushed a bright red, now painfully aware of the poor state of his clothing. Stanley groaned and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to look down to see another man's hand partially through his pants. He saw a look of horror on Bill's face, and Stanley returned it with pursed lips and a pained expression. He held Stanley's gaze for a brief moment before he had to finally look away in shame. Bill quickly finished up checking his ankles, and stood up straight. "Well. You must think I'm pretty damn stupid. Trying to pull a fast one on me like that. You bring me a man who looks like a straight up a pile of trash, but I'm no fool. Clearly, this is a test. Well. Gentlemen. You forget that I am perfect at my job. Come on, plant. Let's get you back into a suit." Bill's hand was suddenly on his arm, pulling him out of the courtyard and into the arched corridor nearby. 

"Wh-what was all that about? I'm not a-" 

"SH." Bill pressed a finger to his lips. Stanley immediately quieted down. "You cannot see Rico like that! He'll shoot you on sight just on principle alone. Come on, get this off." He reached down and tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "Pants too. I'll get you a better shirt and pants from the closet. It may not fit all the way, but it's better than you got on right now." 

Stanley shucked off his shirt while Bill opened up a closet door. He pulled out a white shirt and a pair of slacks, turning around to face Stanley. He grew aware of the swell of his belly, dragging his hand over it as he eyed the much thinner man. He chewed on his cheek, fiddling with his belt. "Why are you helping me?" 

"Because I know what it's like to be poor." He handed Stanley the clothing. "It sucks, to put it bluntly. It's hard enough as it is, you don't need Rico killing you on sight because he doesn't like your look. Why do you think he made you bring a towel? He's not going to use his own towels when having the cleaning staff get rid of your blood." 

He turned green. Some stupid, foolish part of him had hoped the towel was for swimming. Stanley hopped into the pants, putting on the shirt as fast as he could. "Thanks. I uh, I appreciate it. You not sending me to my death in all." He gave him a half-hearted smile. He put his hands on his stomach, looking down at how the buttons was straining slightly against it. "Do I-" 

"-I like a guy with meat on his bones. Rico is always complaining that I am too skinny." Bill approached him, reaching out to straighten his collar. "There. Much better. Alright, come on. Let's go." 

Stanley stayed behind Bill. Normally he would have matched his stride, but this was different. He was being given an opportunity to do some work for an incredibly powerful, dangerous man. The legality of that work remained to be seen, but at this point he could care less. This had potential. 

Bill pushed open the doors to a large office. A built man with well-manicured black hair sat in a high-backed leather chair, with a huge desk in front of him. His suit was as expensive looking as Bill's, only black in color. Beside him stood what could only be another body guard, though this one was far bulkier than Bill could ever hope to be. He wore an ear piece, and sunglasses. Both items were lacking on Bill. Stanley stood up as straight as he could, watching out of the corner of his eye as Bill joined Rico's other side. Instead of standing like the other body guard, he sat on the arm of the chair. 

"Ah, mijo. You have returned. And you have brought me ah-" 

"Stanley Pinington. He's clean." Bill folded his arms across his chest. "And ready for work." 

Rico snorted, grinding out a cigar in an ashtray. Bill was quick to pull out a lighter from his pocket, the silver catching Stanley's eye as it gleamed in the sun. The flame, an odd blue color, leapt to life. Rico lit another cigar, as a long, aggravated sigh escaped him. "You're kidding me. This guy? Look at him. I don't have time for your strays, mijo." 

Stanley winced. He balled up his fists behind him, trying desperately to ignore the sweat pouring down the back of his neck. 

"I am looking at him." 

And sure enough, he was. Bill's gaze was focused right on Stanley, his eye half lidded, and a smile tugging at his lips. Stanley's face heated up. Oh. The last person to look at him like that was Carla, and that was after he won the high school boxing championship. His mind pulled out any possible things he could have done to spark such an interest from Bill, but nothing other than being pathetic came to mind. 

Rico turned his sharp gaze upward at Bill. For a while, he said nothing. Words began to stream out of his mouth like a long, aggravated stream of consciousness. "¡Estoy tratando de operar un negocio respetable! No tengo tiempo para tus intereses románticos, ni quiero pensar en que trabajen para mí. No está en forma para ayudar o hacer gran cosa. ¿Qué tan pobre era él cuando lo encontraste? ¡Esta no es una casa de caridad! ¡Deshacerse de él!" He slammed his thick fist on the desk, making the ash tray, the body guard, and Stanley jump. 

Bill however, remained still with his arms remained folded across his chest. Stanley knew some of what he said, and what he did not know, he gathered from the volume alone on just how bad it happened to be for him. He stared down at Rico with a narrowed eye while Stanley tried not to squirm. Minutes past. Sweat began to bead up on his forehead, as he noticed a tick in Rico's jaw. With a loud, aggravated groan, Rico turned away from Bill and stared directly at Stanley. "Do you have children?!" 

Stanley shook his head no as fast as he could. 

"Good. Never have children. Ever." He puffed angrily on his cigar, eyeing Bill for a moment. 

"Y-yes sir." 

"Alright, alright. Fine. Bill, you've gotten your wish. This man is now part of the family. But the second he fucks up, and I know he will, he's just another stain that needs cleaning up." He gestured to Stanley's towel. "For now, however, you can put your towel to good use as my outdoor bartender. Now. Leave my office before you ruin my floors with your sweat." 

Stanley nodded his head quickly and turned to head out the doors. 

Bill made a move to leave with him, but was stopped by Rico pulling him back down. "Nah, mijo. Quedarse quieto. I want you to stay far from this Stanley Pinington. Far away. He is no good, do you understand me? No good!" The door shut with finality, leaving him back outside in the sticky heat, alone. 

\- 

"So Bill is really the son of King Rico?" 

"Yeah, he is." Stanley winced. Had he known at the time, things could have ended far differently. "Funny how life is. Real funny. Suppose he was adopted at some point by Rico, I never got the whole story out of Bill. He doesn't like to talk about it much." 

"Oh! So if Ford marries Bill, will that make us royalty?!" 

The color drained out of Stanley's face until he matched his white tee shirt. He saw Sherman continue to talk excitedly, his eyes wide with hope. His pulse began to hammer hard in his head, drowning out the sounds of his younger brother. He cleared his throat, making motions for Sherman to stop talking. "No, Shermy. Stop. Rico is incredibly dangerous. There is no happy ending to the story if he's involved. Believe me." Bill did swear to incinerate Rico on sight alone to protect them and their life, after all. 

Sherman frowned and looked down. "O-okay. M'sorry, Stanley. I thought maybe Dad would like Bill more if... if... " 

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Dad's not going to like Bill, Shermy. You'll get it when you're older, but not everything parents think or do is right. Or... sometimes the things they do might seem harsh, but they're doing it for a reason-" 

"Like making sure Bill didn't talk to you in the story?" 

Stanley bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah, kid. King Rico didn't think much of me. No one ever does though, besides Bill, a-and you know what? That's alright. I'd rather wow im' when they least expect it than come in over blown. It's better to be the underdog. Which is exactly what I was going in to my first task as Rico's bartender-" 

\- 

It was nearly a week before Stanley saw Bill again. His first task as a bartender was making drinks for Rico's outdoor pool soiree. Every high-ranking member of Rico's operation, along with the dons and their families of nearby cartels were coming. During the staff briefings about the event, no one mentioned what exactly the celebration was to be about- though everyone had to train relentlessly for it to be perfect. That was fine, he supposed. It was none of his business. He ran a hand over the sticky surface of the outdoor bar, and began to clean it. 

Maybe he would get a chance to see Bill. 

A hand yanked back on his shoulder while he was cleaning the bar. He looked right at the long, pointed face of his manager. The other man saw fit to do nothing but shout obscenities and mock his drinks during the training. "Don't fuck it up, Pinington. This is on me if you fuck it up and-" 

"Ahem." Bill's voice startled them both. He stood in front of the bar, wearing a pair of white swim trunks. It was then Stanley realized just how thin he happened to be. He counted the ribs poking through his skin and winced. 

"O-oh, oh! Sir! Hello. I am just reminding the bartender that he needs to be perfect tonight and-" 

Bill scowled at him. "Go away." 

"Yes sir, of course sir. Right away, sir!" Stanley's manager was gone in a flash, leaving them alone. 

"Do you need food? I've got bar nuts." Stanley immediately put a bowl of them up on the bar. "You should just... take the bowl. I'll get more." 

"H-huh?" Bill blinked at him and then looked down at himself. "Right. See? I wasn't lying when I told you Rico thought I was too skinny. He's right, but my body's metabolism is stuck on the extreme setting, so to speak." 

"Why's that? Do you got a medical problem?" 

"You... could say that." Bill shrugged a shoulder. To appease Stanley, he started eating the nuts. "So, do I get a drink with my snacks?" 

"Oh! Yeah, yeah. What's your poison, pal?" 

"I'll have a-" 

Rico appeared next to Bill. He stared up at him, squinting. "I will get you a drink, you go back to contemplating family duty over on the diving board." 

Bill frowned hard. "But-" 

"Family duty, diving board- now!" 

"Fine, fine." Bill stuck his hand in the bowl of nuts one last time before stomping off toward the diving board. He straddled it, his long legs hanging over the sides. If Stanley did not know any better, he would have sworn he was sulking. 

"Look here, Pinington." Stanley began and eyed him with a deep, disapproving frown. "I do not need you distracting my son at this party. He is going to be running this whole operation someday, and he needs to learn how to run an affair and get along with all of the other cartels. He has suitors coming to this party as well, all from very powerful families who want to make a connection with this family. You must know have some understanding of how important a reputation is." 

Stanley ducked his head, concentrating on cleaning up difficult spot on the bar. "Yeah, I do." 

Rico's hand shot out and grabbed Stanley by his pale blue polo shirt, nearly yanking him over the bar. "Everything must go perfectly, tonight. ¿Comprendes, chico?" 

"Yes, sir. I understand. It will, I-I promise." When Rico let him go, Stanley let out a sigh of relief. "...Are the suitors nice?" 

Rico let out a hard sigh through his nose. He drummed his fingers on the counter in a fast, agitated manner. "...Just make me a Paloma, Pinington." 

\- 

Guests mingled about in brightly colored bathing suits. People swarmed his bar, demanding drinks, but leaving behind wads of cash as tips for his work well done. Whenever he had a moment, he scanned the area for Bill. He found him, glued to Rico's side. Bill waved to him when he caught sight of Stanley, and he returned the gesture. A few people approached the pair. Suitors. He shrugged a shoulder at the thought. Maybe Bill would find one he liked. Or not, given how quickly Bill became disinterested after being introduced. Though they all seemed fairly harmless from what he could make out. 

All except for maybe one. 

He was tall, tan, and when he walked in with what looked to be his family, Stanley immediately choked on his cologne. It rolled off his skin, as if he bathed in it. He snapped his fingers and gestured to Stanley's bar. Two men came rushing over, grabbing up one of the drinks Stanley had made up in advance. Once they were done pilfering his bar, he replaced everything quickly, not wanting to fall back on demand. When he looked up again, he saw him heading straight for Bill and Rico. 

Stanley caught Rico grabbing hold of Bill's wrist. The new guest was loud enough for him to hear his banter all the way over at the bar. Bill instantly looked disinterested, which only seemed to infuriate him more. He lashed out, grabbing Bill by his wrist. He yanked him forward, which made Rico go to grab what Stanley could only assume was a gun from his holster. Bill was faster, as Stanley assumed he would be. One long leg extended fast and hard, connecting with the pushy man right in the side. He fell into the pool, getting a laugh out of everyone- Stanley included. He grinned right at Bill, who flashed him a smirk, a wink, and began his way over. He had rounded the corner of Rico's massive pool when the man Bill kicked into the pool leapt out and grabbed his ankles. Bill was yanked down to the ground, landing hard enough that it left him dazed. 

"How dare you make a fool out of me, you stupid puta! You think you're too good for me, or something?!" He kicked Bill hard in the side, and went down to grab a fist full of his black hair. "You get up, you look me in the face, you-" 

Whatever he was going to say was lost, muffled by the hard sound of Stanley's fist as it met his face. He folded like a cheap pool chair, and was out cold on the deck from one solid punch. The party went completely silent, as everyone turned to look at Stanley standing victoriously above the man on the ground, his fist still balled up. "Bill!" Stanley knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulders. "Are you okay?! That was a cheap ass thing to do to someone! That guy's an-" 

"!daed s'eh ,daed s'eH !elbazingocernu s'ti os esproc sih nrub ll'I !mih llik ot gniog m'I" Bill roared as blue fire leaped from his fingertips. He tried to lunge, only to be stopped by Stanley. 

"He's out cold already! It's over!" Stanley shouted and pressed his body down on top of Bill's to prevent him from going any further. "Don't lower yourself to his level. You're way better than him." The body beneath him stopped thrashing, his hands settling down on the patio instead of trying to rip up the floor boards. "It's over." The blue fire soon died down to nothing but a blue glow, until it too was gone. Stanley bit his lip. Blue fire. It had to be some kind of magic trick. A real fancy one, as hell, the son of Rico could afford something like that easily. 

It was a damn good trick though. 

Stanley stood up, helping Bill to his feet. "You hit your chin pretty good. I got some ice behind the bar-" 

The sound of several guns clicking into place made him pause. They were surrounded by henchmen Stanley did not recognize. They were led by a short, older red-faced man who had his sights firmly locked on Stanley. He pointed a thick finger straight at his chest. "I want this man dead! How dare he strike my son!" 

"Your son offended my son! My staff member was doing what he was trained to do. I'm not executing a man for doing what he is supposed to be doing!" Rico threw his cigar down to the ground, grinding it into the patio with his foot. "Your son is an animal! Look what he did to my son's face!" 

Bill blinked at patted his face at the remark. He grimaced when he found rough, ground up skin underneath his chin from where he landed. Blood was on the tips of his fingers when he brought back his hand. The arguing between the two men began to grow, as one shoved the other. Bill reached out, grabbing Stanley's hand with his clean hand. He leaned over to whisper 'come on' to him in his ear, giving his arm a gentle tug. Stanley followed, keeping quiet while they slipped away. Once they were in the hallway, Bill was out of his swim trunks and shoving himself into one of the spare black suits kept in the hallway. "Wh-where are we going?" 

"No idea." Bill's fingers flew up the shirt, buttoning whatever buttons he could shove into their proper holes. "Doesn't matter, let's just go! We don't have a lot of time before they notice we're gone, and I'm not going to let them kill you!" 

Stanley blinked. "You'd- wait. You'd run off with me? Are you sure? You'll be leaving everything behind-" 

"I'm not going to let them kill you." Bill ripped a set of keys down from the rack. "I'll get us as far away as I can, and then we'll figure it out from there." His expression softened as he reached down to take Stanley's hand. "It's just us now. Let's go while we still have the chance. I will get us some place safe, wherever ever that may be." 

\- 

"And he did. We had some rough road adventures, but eventually we wound up here in Gravity Falls. The end!" Stanley leaned back in his chair, a pleased smile on his face. 

Sherman stared wide eyed at him from beyond the tablet screen, barely wanting to blink. "Wow! Bill left all that behind to save you? That's crazy!" 

Stanley's expression soured slightly. "Yeah, well. Bill's got good taste. Alright, Sherman. Go to bed. I know how late it is there at home and I don't want Ma to kill me." 

"Okay, okay. I will. Thank you for telling me a story, Stanley! Don’t tell Ford, but I really loved yours more." 

He smiled. "Yeah, I won't. I will tell him you said hi though." After saying good night to Sherman, he sat his tablet on the table. He stared at it for a moment, getting up to go over to the counter in the Mystery Shack where he kept the picture of him and Bill during the Mystery Shack's grand opening. His expression softened as he lifted it off of the wall, staring down at it for a good long while until the door slammed open. 

"Where's Sixer?" 

Stanley looked up to see Bill, wide eyed, and trembling. "In the forest still, why? Wait. What's wrong-" 

"I don't know, but... part of me knows something terrible is going to happen. It feels like the whole world wants to split open, and... and nothing feels right." Bill raked a hand through his hair. "I've got to find him." 

Stanley put the picture on the counter, rolling his shoulders and stood up straighter. "Well. That sounds like a job for the two of us cons-" 

"No." Bill's firm answer stopped him dead in his tracks. "No, you stay here. I want you safe. I can handle this just fine. Be by your phone, in case I might need you." 

"A-alright, if you think it's really that bad. Hey uh, Bill? Before you go, I..." He began to trail off, and then fiddled with his fingers for a moment. "I just uh. I wanted to say. ...Fuck it." He reached over and pulled him in to a tight hug. "Just be careful, damn it. You mean a lot to me." 

Bill's long, thin arms were quick to hug him back. "I know, I’m the highlight of your day." He pulled away and grinned at him. "I'll bring him back." 

"Yeah, I trust ya. Go on, go." Stanley pushed him off, following him to the door. Bill waved, and he returned it, watching him run down the cracked side walk toward the dark outline of the forest. 

END


End file.
